


The King's Pet (Prologue Story)

by Macs_Baby_Girl



Series: Thranduil/Elanna [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, First of a series, Original Character - Freeform, Smut, thranduil/oc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2611040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macs_Baby_Girl/pseuds/Macs_Baby_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prologue to a future series of Thranduil/OC fics. </p>
<p>The story of how Elanna came to be the elvenking's lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King's Pet (Prologue Story)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: contains dubcon (dubious consent) scenes.  
> Also this was written two years ago so be nice, I'm too lazy to rework it.

I was running as fast as I could. I didn’t dare look back. I didn’t want to know how close the guards were. It would all depend on Thranduil’s mood what happened to me, if he felt like being kind maybe I’d only be thrown in a cell for a few hundred years until I had learned my lesson. But if he felt like being cruel? I shuddered to think about it and just kept running. Spiders are far more appealing than Thranduil’s wrath.

An arrow whizzed past as I jumped and rolled down a tree trunk, it snagged at my waist but the speed I was going at meant it just ripped straight away. Still, better a ripped shirt than an arrow in the gut. Although the sounds of the approaching guards didn’t help my fears.

“Elanna Silverlight, halt. By order of king Thranduil, you’re under arrest,” the all too familiar guard called as the rest of the company stepped out of the trees and surrounded me.

I turned to look back and there he was, Legolas, son of Thranduil, insufferable dick to all of us of the common caste, “under what charge?”

Legolas looked at me with piercing eyes, “insolence, insulting the royal family, theft, disorderly misconduct, and resisting arrest.”

“Ah,” I said as I realised how true pretty much all of that was. Well. Except the theft part. That had probably been added in for the hell of it.

~~  
Being thrown at the feet of the king while wearing shackles wasn’t exactly my best outcome but it was certainly the most realistic. I had been shackled in the forest and practically dragged back to the castle by the king’s stupid son and company. So now I was covered in dirt on my legs from all the times I tried to get away, the hole in my shirt was even bigger, and at this rate I was going to get broken skin from these stupid fucking shackles. I decided my best course of action was to be as indignant without getting myself killed as possible, hopefully Thranduil only decides that prison is the best place for me.

“You are Silverlight, yes?” Thranduil says, not even looking at me.

“I am,” I stuck my head up proudly.

Thranduil turned gracefully to look down at me from his throne, “guards, seal the doors and leave us. I will take care of this personally,” he smiled.

The guards nodded and I started to get really scared at what he would actually do. This is the same guy who single handed stabbed the great fire serpents of the north in the face with a dagger, and you want to piss him off? Yeah, great idea, Elanna.

“Silverlight. Elanna Silverlight. Interesting,” Thranduil said as he slid his legs off the throne and stood to his full regal height.

Dang, you tall, I thought. I shook the thought from my mind as he walked towards me, a fiery ice look in his eyes. Damn. 

“What... am I... to do... with you,” he says as he walks around me, pausing to look down at me every few words.

“You can bite me,” I snark at him.

“Oh really?” he leans in and bites my neck ever so gently.

My eyes widen in surprise as he releases my neck and steps back, a small smirk touching his lips.

“Should I bite you again, Silverlight? Oh wait, sure I can, I am the king and I may do as I please because insolent commoners have no say in the affairs of a king,” he grips my shoulders tightly and traces his teeth over my neck.

I gasp, shocked that the king would stoop to this, and certainly after his wife’s death, despite that having occurred many years ago. Elves are monogamous so he should never feel attraction to anyone else, unless he was just using me because he can and to teach me a lesson. Well if that’s how he wants to play it I won’t let him win, I may be a commoner but he’s still just an elf.

“You tensed up just then, Silverlight. Surely you’re not that easily broken?” he says as he pulls his head back, his robes swimming around him.

“No,” I hold my head up indignantly, “I could never be broken by someone like you.”  
Lies. He has at least two thousand years on me, maybe more. If he wants to break me, I have no doubt in my mind that he can.

“Oh, I doubt that. Do not test my wrath, Silverlight, you may not like the consequences,” Thranduil jerked up on the shackles and hauled me to my feet at the last few words.

I gasped at the pain of the shackles- they were going to break the skin if he did that too often.

“You truly are weak if a lowly shackle is going to break you, I may not even have to do anything more myself,” he mused as he started tugging me along behind him on his return to the throne.  
Ouch. 

He pulled me into a kneeling position and locked the ends of the shackles to the throne, “that’s a much better position for a commoner, is it not? Beneath me is such a comfortable place by comparison to the worlds beyond Mirkwood. I do not understand why one would want to travel to a place without the protection that I offer, nor do I understand why one would try to offend me when all I do is provide safety for those in my kingdom. So why do you?”

“Because you’re a tyrant who’s lost touch with the people. You’ve lost everything that made us great and now we’re nothing but worms hiding in the dirt until we’re eaten alive by those that would call us prey,” I spat at him, looking at him straight in the eyes. That’s true enough, though I’m the only one stupid enough to say it to his face. 

“I am a tyrant who has lost touch simply because I do not send my troops to places where they will be slaughtered? Because I do not send them to unknown lands to stop something which cannot be stopped anyway? No, it is not I that is deluded, but those who think they know better when in truth they know nothing. You know nothing of what it takes to be a king and have to protect thousands of lives. You know nothing of losing battles time and time again because you went too far. You know nothing of what I have lost in my time as king. You will not speak to me in such a manner, do you understand?” he gripped my head and pulled it up to meet his at his final words.

“You have lost nothing, Thranduil. Everything you desire is at your fingertips. Just say the word and you could have everything thrown at you from the tallest trees and yet us common folk are left to squander and fend for ourselves until you decide it’s prime to visit and take everything that we have for your own gains,” I spat back at him.

He looked at me curiously, “have I not been generous? I send resources to the commoners every week to keep supplies and trade busy. I have schools built for children all across the kingdom so they may learn what it means to be Elvish and how to survive. Is that not generosity? It is far more than a king of any other land would ever do for his people,” he pulled my face towards his.

“Your schools are relics and the resources are nowhere near what it takes to sustain us, you could send over far more at no cost to you-” he thrusts his lips heavily into mine, stopping my words before I can go on.

His fingers tighten and curl around my hair, gripping it tight and pulling hard. His lips are soft but I can feel the hardness at the very base. Shocked, I freeze up, then by some stupid fault of my own, I start to kiss him back. Suddenly he pulls my face away from his and cocks his head to the side, “don’t tell me you were enjoying that?”

“No, I would never enjoy anything from scum like you,” I retort with a sneer, ignoring the knowledge that it’s one hell of a lie.

“Good,” he pulls me over to his pants and forces my chin to rest on his groin, “why do you insist that I have everything I could want when that is clearly not true, Silverlight?”

Oh my god, I thought as I could feel his pants getting slowly tighter under my chin, “the only thing you don’t have is your wife and quite frankly I’m glad. She made you far too happy.”  
As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Sure, he was a dick, but that was a bit too harsh. And to be fair, I was only trying to piss him off, not wound him.

Rage flashed across Thranduil’s face as he forced my head back while he stood and ripped his pants down to his knees, “you insolent little quim,” he raged as he forced my head onto his own that got harder than it had been before. “I will teach you of a proper manner to use a filthy, treacherous mouth such that,” he whispered cruelly into my ear as he forced my mouth open and rammed it onto the end of his cock.

He held my jaw just wide enough around his thick cock so that my teeth gently brushed up and down the sides. Oh god, I thought as he started pumping my head faster and faster, he’s going to cum in my mouth. The Elvish king Thranduil is going to cum in my mouth all because I insulted him.  
I try to ignore how goddamn hot that thought is and focus on being filled with rage instead:  
In that case I’ll see how far I can get him. Let’s see just how much of an animal the king really is.

Harder and faster, the king kept moving my head until I could feel he was about to cum. Just as he did I bit down with just a touch of force, enough to cause him a shock but not enough to draw blood. He yelled slightly, pulled my head away from his cock, and slapped me with a loud and sharp crack.

“How dare you,” Thranduil snarled, “you will regret that... I was going to let you go after this but now you will have no say in what I will do. Your body is now my own and you no longer have any free will to decide. Do you understand me you little slut?”

“Fuck you,” I spat his cum into his face. Not exactly a wise move, I might add. 

“Fine then,” he purrs as he gracefully stands up and throws me against the throne, legs splayed out behind me and open wide. He holds my ass in place with his right hand and starts to slap me with his left. Somehow this is all turning me on but I would never admit it, not to his face. Though I’m not exactly facing him right now...

My thoughts are abruptly stopped as he rams his solid cock into my pussy. I can’t help but scream, half in pain at the sudden intrusion, and half in pleasure.  
“See, I knew I could break you,” he purrs into my ear as he thrusts slowly back and forth. The force and where he shoved me onto the throne means that part of it is rubbing against my clit. Oh god, I’m going to cum.

“Y-you’ll never break me,” I choke out but I know it’s going to be for naught. I can feel it coming.

“Are you really so sure? I can feel you trembling, you’re so close. I will break you, Silverlight, you have no say in the matter,” Thranduil whispered into my ear as he started grinding his hips on my ass, cock still thoroughly inside me, his thrusts deepening. 

I shuddered and a wave of pleasure rolled over me as I cried out. I had come and it was Thranduil that made me do it. I could practically feel his smile as he came for the second time, this time deep inside me, rather than in my mouth, “what did I tell you, Silverlight? See, I can make you cum and submit to me with ease. You have no power and you never did, so why even bother,” he purred.

“N-n-n,” I tried to get out but I was just shaking so much. Perhaps I should have been feeling violated. I wasn’t. I’d never tried to stop him (although I wasn’t entirely sure I physically could). 

He ripped himself out of me and I gasped, “Pathetic. Really.” He threw me onto my back against the throne and ripped at the hole in my shirt, “oh look, more reasons you will always submit to me,” he started pinching and twisting my nipples.

I gasped again as he started taking my nipples into his mouth. How can he even use his tongue like this? Without thinking I let out a low moan as his fingers danced around on my clit.

When he was satisfactorily finished, Thranduil stood up and looked down and my wet, trembling body still shackled to his throne. He cocked his head to the side, smirked, pulled his pants back up to his waist and started to walk away.

“W-wait,” I called meekly.

“You will be taken to a private dungeon under my bed chambers. You’re broken now but you can be so much less of an elf with a little bit more time. I will strip away everything of you until you are just a creature to be held in my private dungeon for my own pleasure. Now that is how I will finally break you, Elanna,” Thranduil said as he walked towards a hidden door.

I mewled quietly, both in pleasure and pain.

~~  
I didn’t actually think he was being serious. I thought I’d just be chucked into a dungeon and left to rot. Unfortunately, the smug bastard was serious. Entirely. He left me alone for what I calculated to be about two days. Despite being locked in the dingy room all day and all night, on the second day he caved in to… something… and sent me a maid. Perhaps it had been my constant screeching and eventual crying. I was more pissed off than upset, to be honest. The maid brought me food and water, and drew me a bath in a rusty old tub.  
Although she did not speak a word to me, she carefully dabbed at the bruises on my body with some sort of ointment, and on her way out, once she had gathered up the plates and wash basin, she briefly clasped my wrist.  
She returned later, bringing with her a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. It was a dress, made of silk the color of a plum.  
“Why does he make me wear such things?” I grumbled, “it’ll only get destroyed.”  
The wordless maid flushed, and a strange feeling came over me. Was she a bed slut for Him, too? It was entirely possible; after all, he was the King, and loathe as I was to admit it, he was incredibly handsome. I didn’t like the idea though. He was mine.  
Wait. Where did that come from? Great, let a king fuck you once and all of a sudden he’s yours? Get a grip, Elanna.  
Before I could further question her, she left. I dressed quickly in the silk confection and waited. I wasn’t waiting long; soon, a pair of guards came to escort me up to the King’s chambers.  
They were vast and beautiful, built deep within Mirkwood. There was a deep pond-like bath, a grand desk, table, and an enormous bed.  
“You are to wait here.” One of the guards said as they walked out. I figured there was no point trying to escape; I’d be dead before I managed to get three leagues. If I was lucky. Ah, what the hell. I’m stuck here, I may as well try to please him. So I stand there, dressed in silk, and wait for him to room. Dressed in his usual silver robes and dark orange overcoat, he lets the heavy doors slam behind him as he prowls into the room. He ignores me at first, removing his crown and downing a cup of wine before he turns to me.  
He approaches me like a predator, making me tremble with fear and desire.  
“My Lord?” I say softly. He smirks, and I realise I’ve bent to his will entirely, speaking his title without a second thought and no trace of venom. I can’t help it. He’s so… beautiful… and right now, he looks so stressed… so tense… a braver woman than I might have taken advantage of that and hurled insults and violence at him, but when presented with such opportunity, I find myself unable.  
“Your increased loyalty pleases me, Silverlight,” he says, “at least some still have respect for their king.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I had a deal with another king; a dwarf king. He did not fulfil his end of our bargain. I grow weary of fools.” He sounds weary.  
“Can I help you, your grace?” I offer demurely.  
He nods, drains his cup of wine, casts it aside.  
“Help me bathe, little dove,” his voice is gentle. There is no sight of the animalistic lover who took me so harshly three nights past. I can’t bring myself to be angry, nor to spit at him or throw a punch. So instead, I tuck my long hair behind my ears and gently slide off his long overcoat, setting it aside before carefully unclasping his robes. His eyes study me, pierce me, as the robes slip to the floor.  
He turns from me and steps into the pool-bath.  
“Undress and join me.” Whilst it’s undoubtedly a command, his voice remains calm, no hint of violence to come.  
I carefully undress, slip out of the silk dress and step towards him. He isn’t cruel, not always. My thoughts tell me, he is a King, and he has lived longer than I can imagine, seen more than I care to think of. I would be bitter, too, and cruel, if I must.  
I lower myself into the pond, looking down, not meeting his gaze. He, however, doesn’t take his eyes from me. I can almost feel his gaze, and when it gets too much, I look up, meet his icy stare.  
“Come,” he beckons me, and I carefully move over to him. His hand touches my face, bearing no trace of his roughness the other night.  
“I would ask your forgiveness for my anger the past night.” His words surprise me, make me suspicious. Is he trying to catch me off guard?  
“No, my Lord,” I say carefully, “forgive me for my harsh words. You are the king, long have you ruled. In the end, you probably know what is best for the people.”  
As I speak, I cup my hands and gather water in them, dripping it down his chest.  
“The subject of Legolas’ mother is a sore one, Elanna.” Thranduil says softly, “I should not have acted the way I did - it was not kingly of me. Some would say I defiled you. And yet, I cannot bear to release you from my… service.”  
I lift one of my small, dripping hands to his face, “You don’t have to, my King.”  
But as my hand touches his face, a kind of concealment charm fades, and one side of his face changes drastically. His perfect features twist into an old wound, one eye entirely white, his cheek missing. A lesser woman would have screamed aloud, recoiled. I thanked my gods I was not as easily startled. I had seen grotesque battle wounds among my peasant-kin; gnarled stumps of legs, missing eyes… his wounds were old, yes, but I find them to merely change his beauty, not mar it.  
“My lord…” I whisper. He turns away.  
“Do not look, Elanna.” He sounds almost ashamed. I roll my eyes and gently turn his face back to me, climb into his lap with ease. He does not push me away; a good sign.  
“Why do you hide from me, your grace? I belong to you, remember?” I say softly.  
His mouth twists into a sarcastic smile.  
“Why don’t you recoil, Elanna? Does this not prove me to be monstrous?” he asks. I can’t bear this. I cannot bear to see this gorgeous, unearthly man so hurt, so full of self-hatred. And to think three nights past I wanted him to hurt.  
“I see no monster.” I say, and daringly press my lips to his, winding my hands through his long, silken hair. His kiss becomes hungry, like a drowning man reaching air. His hands settle on my waist, pulling me close to him. I can feel his arousal pressing into my stomach, my breasts pressing into his firm chest.  
He is gentle this time, strong arms lifting me up, his lips at my throat, my breasts, and finally, just when I am ready to beg him, my mouth. I’m a trembling mess by the time he finally enters me. He holds my hips, settled comfortably beneath me as I sink onto his thick length. My nails lightly scrape his back as I feel his entire impressive manhood within me. His mouth settles on mine again, tongue sweeping my mouth as he began to slowly thrust into me. His kiss is intoxicating, and when I finally tear away for air, I am overwhelmed with a new sensation – his pace had grown faster, his thrusts rougher and deeper.  
“Oh…” I sigh, rolling my hips against his.  
“Come for me, little dove.” Thranduil murmurs in my ear, his beautiful voice sounding even more entrancing as he spoke Elvish.  
“Who am I to refuse my king?” I reply, a smirk gracing my lips that quickly turns to a gasp as he thrusts into me even harder than before.  
“Oh… Heruamin… A’maelamin…” I can’t help the words that fall from my lips as pleasure rolls over me, hits me like a wave hits a rock. Perhaps it is the words I speak or the way I kiss him that makes Thranduil come. With one final, deep thrust, I feel him spill his seed inside of me.  
He holds me, his strong arms wrapped around me. I carefully rest my head on his chest.  
“A’maelamin? Is that what you cried?” his voice is quiet.  
Shit. I had hoped he had not heard.  
“My apologies, Heruamin.” I say softly, “I did not think…”  
I can almost hear the smug smile on his face.  
“You call me your beloved, and yet not three nights past you spit upon my face.” Thranduil murmurs in Elvish, “you are a strange, strange woman, Elanna.”  
“Auta miqula orqu,” I grumble against his chest.  
“Why kiss an orc, Elanna, when I may kiss you?” he says softly, and gently kisses my lips.  
We emerge from the bathing pond, dry off, and dress. When I’m done fiddling with my dress, Thranduil approaches me and pulls me into his arms again.  
“Do not leave my side this night,” he says in Elvish.  
“Of course not, Heruamin…” I reply gently. He lifts me into his arms, carrying me the way a husband carries his bride.  
Moments later, I am enfolded in his arms, my hand upon his face, eyes staring into his.  
“Heruamin?” I ask softly.  
“What is it, little dove?”  
I smirk at him. “There’s still an awful lot of night left.”  
He matches my smirk with a devilish element to his own.  
“Are you daring to proposition your king?” he mock growls at me. I actually giggle.  
“Perhaps,” I say softly in the common tongue. He chuckles at that.  
“Luckily for you, little dove, I am open to such ideas,” before the entire sentence has fallen from his lips he rolls, pinning me beneath him, pressing my smaller body into the soft silks and furs of his bed.  
“Heruamin?” I stare up at him, eyes wide, lips parted. He stares at me for a moment before he presses his mouth to mine again. He trails a hand down my stomach, teasingly resting his fingers on my clit, and then, without warning, he slides a finger inside me.  
“Ah, little dove, already so wet for me?” he says, crooking his finger; I cry out.  
“Yes… Oh…. Please…”  
“Please what?” he smirks; the bastard is enjoying this sweet torment.  
“Please,” I beg, “Don’t stop.”  
Incredible, what a few days in a dungeon and a skilled lover can do to the mind. As he slips inside me once more, I find all desire to leave this place has vanished, replaced instead with the intense desire to never leave his side again.


End file.
